


Offered and Taken

by orphan_account



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, bad excuses for having sex, just because your PA is horny for danger doesn't make this consent less dubious gabe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-12 19:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21481558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Gabriel Agreste finds himself stuck in the guise of Hawk Moth and unable to return home... so instead he makes his way to his assistant's apartment.Tagged as Rape/Non-Con not because enthusiastic verbal consent isn't given, but because (a) Nathalie isn't aware that Hawk Moth is Gabriel in this and would probably not have given consent if she were, which makes this rape by deception, and (b) the power differential between Nathalie and Hawk Moth is such that it's hard to argue that meaningful consent can be given.(Probably not as dirty as you're hoping, because things with anything approaching non-con are not my preferred genre.)
Relationships: Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 36
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

Gabriel Agreste was tired and hungry and too far from home for his own comfort.

And, even more unfortunately, he was stuck with a malfunctioning Miraculous. Particularly unfortunate because someone had spotted him nearby his mansion in the guise of Hawk Moth, and now the street outside was swarming with cops, and, worse still, the grounds inside the walls were being patrolled by a rotating cast of young superheroes. He had made two attempts at getting in to the mansion unseen and had failed spectacularly both times. His only chance of getting home without causing even more of an alarm would be to undo the transformation that turned him into Hawk Moth, but no matter how many times he tried to unpin the butterfly-shaped broach at his neck, no matter how many times he commanded Nooroo with “Dark wings fall,” the guise of the city’s most-wanted supervillain remained stubbornly in place over his own face.

Not that returning home as himself would lead to an entirely unquestioned homecoming; he had snuck back into Paris two days early from what was supposed to be a solo textile buying trip in Italy, and wasn’t supposed to be home again until Monday.

He needed somewhere safe to hide until he could either figure out what was wrong with his Miraculous or wait out the rest of the weekend, and hopefully the added security at his house with it. He needed...

Nathalie. Her apartment was somewhere around here, wasn’t it? He had been there once, Nathalie putting on a polite face and bristling quietly at him all the while for invading her personal space. But he was certain he could convince her to keep quiet about it, if only because of the curiosity he had felt from her every time there was an akuma attack.

Now, if he could just remember the address...

It took another hour of lurking on rooftops before he discovered Nathalie’s apartment, and even then it was only by chance. He had been frowning at a vaguely familiar apartment building across the street when his eye had been caught by a flash of unexpected movement clad in bright red in the next building over, and he had whipped his head around in time to just catch sight of Nathalie cracking open the door of her balcony. No doubt she was hoping to enjoy some of the balmy spring air as she slept, a safe enough move given the height of the balcony, the distance between it and those of her two neighbors.

It probably would never have occurred to her to look out for a threat from above.

Not that Gabriel intended to threaten Nathalie, or at least not beyond what was necessary to keep her from turning him in to the police. But she would still see him as a threat, and he braced himself for it. She had always taken his shouting about work matters with only the faintest traces of trepidation... and more than a little bit of irritation. But he had never felt her be truly afraid of him.

That was about to change.

Gabriel tucked his cane under his arm and flung himself across the street, marveling as always at the increased strength and agility that using the Butterfly Miraculous gave him. He slid from the rooftop of Nathalie’s apartment building down onto her balcony with barely a sound, and waited cautiously to one side of the door until he was certain she was in her bedroom. He cracked the balcony door a little further open so that he could slip in and shut and locked it behind him before making for the darkest corner of the living room, standing there, waiting to see if Nathalie had heard anything.

Nathalie came out of her bedroom just then, looking as if she were prepared to go to bed shortly. Her hair was loosed from her customary bun and had been braided, the red of that dyed streak she kept in her hair tracing a bright path down the length of it where it hung over her shoulder. She was wearing a silky red robe and, from the look of things, nothing else under it.

Nathalie didn’t even register Gabriel’s presence in the corner of her living room as she crossed towards the kitchen, pausing by a small table next to her couch to plug her cell phone in to charge... until suddenly, she did. Even if he hadn’t been able to feel her sudden startled realization that she wasn’t alone in her apartment, he would have been able to see the moment she noticed him, the moment she realized that the balcony door she had just opened was once more shut tight. Her spine stiffened and her fingers clenched at her side, and he could see a sliver of her profile, staring wide-eyed at him over her shoulder.

Almost faster than he could see, she had her phone back in hand, the hand tucked out of sight against her thigh, for all that her grab for it had been obvious. She was clearly preparing to alert the authorities as she backed cautiously away from him, trying—he suspected—to get close enough to her bedroom again to make a dash for it. But faster still than she would ever have been able to move, thanks to the power of his Miraculous, and he was at her side, his hand around her wrist, squeezing, _squeezing _until she released the phone, dropping it to the wooden floor of her apartment with the sound of the screen shattering as it landed.

_Sorry, Nathalie_, he thought as he brought the end of his cane down on the downed cell phone, once, twice, three times for good measure, breaking it into unrecognizable—and definitely unusable—pieces. Never mind. He would buy her a new one, come Monday.

Her pulse thrummed hard and fast beneath his fingers, and he felt terror and defiance from her in equal measure.

“I take it I will not be calling the cops,” she said, glaring at him.

Gabriel opened his mouth to respond, and thought better of it right away. The Butterfly Miraculous might change most aspects of his appearance, but it did not change his voice or how his face moved as he spoke… and Nathalie was more familiar with his voice—with _him_—than anyone else in the city, including his son. He used his grip on her wrist to swing her around and into his arms, her back to his front, grabbing her shoulder firmly in an implicit threat. “I’m afraid not,” he said once he was certain the angle he held her at wouldn’t give her a good view of his face, trying to drop his voice as deep as it would go as he spoke against her ear.

Her terror spiked, and brought with it... “Arousal?” he growled against Nathalie’s neck. “Oh, you are the perverse sort. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”

The arousal had drowned out the better part of the terror by now, burning hotter and faster in her as he released her wrist and brought his newly freed hand up to stroke her cheek. Nathalie let out a shallow, panting breath as he trailed his fingers down her neck, along her shoulder, pulling the neckline of the silky robe that appeared to be all that she was wearing further open before stroking down, _down_...

Nathalie made a strangled noise as his finger dipped below the neckline of her robe, sweeping along the upper curve of one of her breasts, and suddenly she was melting back against him, her body soft in his arms, her mind a torrent of heat and want.

How unexpected.

His stomach growled, shattering the moment. “I want you,” he murmured against Nathalie’s ear, smiling when she shivered, “To get me something to eat.”

Nathalie let out a breathless laugh. “You know, not what I was expecting you to ask me,” she said. He released her and she took a few stumbling steps towards the kitchen, tucking her robe back into place as she went… and Gabriel dashed past her, suddenly intent on getting to her front door. He leaned nonchalantly—he hoped nonchalantly, with his cane tucked back under his arm and his arms crossed across his chest—against her door as she raised an eyebrow at him.

“I have cheese and bread. Will that do?”

“Well enough.”

She brought him a slab of white bread with brie smeared roughly across the surface, and Gabriel set his cane aside and took it from her, devouring it like a starving man. Nathalie had backed away towards her living room once more, but watched him openly as he ate, that eyebrow still raised inquisitively.

“Long day?”

Gabriel froze. “Long enough,” he said cautiously, reaching out towards Nathalie again with the power of the Butterfly Miraculous. Most of the terror was gone now, replaced with curiosity.

And, of course, there was still that unexpected arousal.

“What did you expect me to ask you?”

“You really have to ask?”

“I might be wrong.” He crossed the room to her side in a dash and she let out a startled yelp as he seized her shoulders and leaned in close, his face a bare inch from hers. “Were you, perhaps, expecting me to ask you for something a little more…” he rubbed his thumbs across her shoulders, wishing he could feel the silk of her robe and resenting the gloves that were part of the outfit the Miraculous supplied for him. But at least he could feel the warmth of her body beneath his hands, and he could feel that arousal from her, even hotter and stronger than before, and that was enough.

“You were saying?” she said in a low, breathy voice.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Gabriel asked, deciding to be blunt.

“No.” Nathalie said, wide-eyed, her shoulders stiffening beneath his hands. “Why would I…” She let out a low, frustrated breath, and Gabriel smiled. He could feel that she was prevaricating, trying to deny what she really wanted. “No, of course not. That would be—”

“Dangerous?” he finished for her in a low growl, leaning in close, his mouth next to her ear. “I can tell that you’re lying, you know.”

All he could feel from her now was arousal, and when he pulled his head back, Nathalie’s eyes were wide and blank, as if she could barely process what was happening to her. Gabriel sighed, and stepped back. As much fun as it was to tease her, to take advantage of her unanticipated lust for Hawk Moth, he was still a married man.

Nathalie took a deep breath, and her eyes fell shut as some of the tension that had held her ramrod straight beneath his touch drained out of her body. “Fine, yes. God, _yes_, please. If sex is on the table then yes, absolutely, I want to have sex with you,” she said in a rush, her eyes still shut as she offered herself to him, her honesty shining through the rest of the sudden, conflicted whirl of emotions she was feeling.

Gabriel felt his breath leave him in a rush, and he found himself looking at Nathalie with new eyes. He had called her perverse when he had first felt her arousal… and he still thought it. What was going on in her life that she would willingly offer herself to Hawk Moth, the villain who had been terrorizing Paris for months now?

Hawk Moth.

She was offering herself to _Hawk Moth_.

Hawk Moth wasn’t a married man. Hawk Moth was a villain.

And Nathalie wasn’t Hawk Moth’s assistant.

Before he could think better of it, he seized her face in both hands, pulling her into a harsh, ravishing kiss. Her lips parted under his with a moan, and her arms wrapped up around his neck, pulling him harder down against her. After a moment, Hawk Moth realized that she seemed to almost be trying to climb his body, one of her legs hooked up around his hip and the other barely supporting any of her weight. He dropped his hands to her thighs, lifting them up around his hips, pressing her up against the wall in her living room and grinding hard against her.

Nathalie moaned again and broke the kiss, and Hawk Moth moved his lips to her neck, biting down hard—a rough bite that lead to a flicker of pleasure from her—before flicking his tongue out against where her pulse beat in her neck, hard and fast.

Her fingers were at his waist now, and she let out a little frustrated noise as she fumbled for a fastening that wasn’t there. “Don’t these come off?”

“No,” Hawk Moth growled against her throat, releasing one of her thighs so that he could roughly shove her robe off her shoulders, revealing her breasts for his perusal. He let out a low groan and bent down, taking one of her nipples in his mouth.

Nathalie gasped and ran her fingers over the top of his head, a touch he could barely feel through the cowl of his mask. “I feel like—oooh!—like that might make it difficult for—ah, _god_!” She cried out, her mind suddenly going blank as he pressed her harder against the wall with his hips. He was erect and perfectly aware that she could feel the hard length of his cock between her thighs, pressing directly against the heat of her slick cunt.

Her robe hung loosely off her shoulders now, hiding precisely nothing at all. The picture of a ravished woman, Hawk Moth found himself thinking.

“So I’ll have to get creative when it comes to fucking you,” he murmured, capturing her earlobe in his teeth. That, she liked.

A lot.

Seemed his little Nathalie liked it just a little bit painful.

Gabriel started at that and almost dropped her. Where had that come from? Bad enough he was trying to pretend that he was _only_ Hawk Moth, that he was justified in taking what was offered. But _his_ Nathalie?

“Something wrong?” Nathalie’s voice was rough with desire, but a proper tendril of concern had worked its way into her mind, confusing her arousal. Gabriel shook his head, forcing himself back into the moment, and nibbled his way down her neck until she made a small noise in the back of her throat that left him feeling raw and just as vulnerable as she was in that moment.

“I’m taking you to your bedroom now,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her throat, feeling her pulse hum hard and fast against his lips, resenting the magical outfit the Miraculous provided. He wanted to be skin to skin with her, an impossibility as long as he was trapped in this form by a Miraculous that was no longer functioning as it ought to.

Just as impossible even if it were, the part of him that was Gabriel reminded himself. Because if he shed this disguise, he was nothing but Gabriel Agreste, and Gabriel Agreste... well, even if he didn’t still consider himself married to Emilie, what would this woman currently in Hawk Moth’s arms want with a grumpy, selfish shut-in of a fashion designer?

Better to be Hawk Moth, here, but he wasn’t sure he could bear to do that either. But with Nathalie warm and relaxed in his arms, how could he do anything else?

Nathalie kept her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom, making incoherent—and remarkably adorable—sounds of protest as she attempted to peel away his mask, unbutton his jacket, find some way under his clothing. She even tried to unpin the Miraculous from his chest. Gabriel froze as she fiddled with it, not knowing what he would do if she managed to get it off. How would she react to suddenly being in the arms of her boss?

Fortunately, it remained stuck fast, and Nathalie gave up with a little huff of annoyance as he laid her down on her bed.

“Like I said,” he said, his face tucked against her neck once more. “It doesn’t come off.”

“That is extremely inconvenient.” There was a tremble in her voice now, and a hint of exhaustion to her—it was clear that the terror from earlier had sent a rush of adrenaline through her that was now wearing off.

He plucked the glasses from her face and set them on the bedside table, and then wrapped his arms around her. She was trembling all over now, and he stroked her gently, sliding his hands along her side, her back, trying to soothe her.

“What the hell am I doing?” she asked out loud.

Gabriel found he was asking himself the same thing, but refused to answer his own question. “Being ravished,” he growled against Nathalie’s ear, digging his fingertips into her hips.

“Oh.” She had that distant, blank look on her face again, and arousal was overwhelming every other feeling she might have. “All right, then.”

Gabriel did not need any more encouragement than that. He pressed her flat against the surface of the bed, parting her legs with the weight of his hips between them, grinding against her with slow, careful strokes meant to bring that arousal of hers to a fever pitch as he used lips and tongue and teeth to their best advantage, seeking out all the soft, tender places on Nathalie’s neck and shoulders that left her whimpering with want as he teased them.

Damn, but he hated this suit. He shifted his weight onto one hand so that he could cup her breast with the other, teasing her nipple with his thumb, and for all that her reaction was extremely pleasant to observe, he resented the fact that he could not feel how soft her skin was beneath his hand as he touched her. He could imagine it, of course, but it wasn’t the same.

“God,” she panted as a hard thrust from his hips left her clenching her legs helplessly around him, trying to pull him closer, trying to pull him inside her. “Give me something,” she begged.

Gabriel let out a low grunt of assent and started making his way down her body, spreading her thighs even wider as he pressed them apart with his hands, looking down at the spread lips of her cunt with just a little bit of greed. And then he lowered his head, tasting and teasing her there, sucking and then nibbling gently on the nubbin of her clitoris, feeling the same rush of pleasurable pain she felt as he worked at her.

“Please,” she begged, and he released one of her thighs so that he could tease her opening, first with one finger and then a second, circling and thrusting just beyond her opening for a moment until she thrust her hips up hard against him and forced his fingers deep inside her.

It had been involuntary, that thrust, the very first spasm of the orgasm that hit her hard, leaving her shaking beneath him, her cunt squeezing his fingers hard. He kept at it, kept his mouth busy at her clitoris, kept his fingers inside her, thrusting slowly, until he heard a whimper and a second burst of overwhelming pleasure from her, so strong it almost took him with her.

She was panting hard and fast as he lifted himself back over her to press a kiss to her throat. Her mouth opened again, but she was clearly unable to form any words, so Gabriel closed it for her with a fierce kiss.

Nathalie was too exhausted to do much more than let him do what he wanted to her body, now. Gabriel broke the kiss and reached for the lamp on her bedside table, the only light currently alight in Nathalie’s bedroom, and turned it off before settling himself at her side, nudging her onto her side and settling behind her, wrapping his arms possessively around her middle. A few minutes later, he felt Nathalie relax completely in his arms; a few minutes after that, and there was a little, breathy snore emanating from her as she fell asleep.

And a few minutes after that, he followed her.

Gabriel woke in the dark of the night, startled awake by he didn’t know what. In his arms, Nathalie shifted, the skin of her stomach warm beneath his hands.

Beneath his hands.

Gabriel lifted the arm that was on top of her and ran his hand over his head. Hair. Somehow, as he slept, the transformation the Butterfly Miraculous forced on him had dropped.

And now he was laying in his assistant’s bed, fully clothed, with her naked in his arms.

He put his hand to his chest, making sure the Miraculous was still pinned in place there, sighing in relief when he found the shape of the butterfly-shaped pin in the dark.

And then…

He didn’t have any excuse for it, other than that Nathalie had blackout shades in her bedroom windows, making it next to impossible to do more than make out vague shapes in the dark of her room. He didn’t have any excuse for it other than that he could get away with it and not be known.

He ran his hand down her side first, from ribcage to thigh, marveling at how soft and smooth her skin was under his touch. And then around and back up, brushing against the soft curls of hair that covered her cunt, tracing the curve of her stomach, cupping his hand around her breast and tracing circles, smaller and smaller, around her nipple, before catching it between finger and thumb and pinching it hard. Nathalie woke in his arms with a startled little inhale of breath at that.

“What…?” She mumbled, her voice still half asleep, half-turning towards him. Gabriel reached up and grabbed her chin in his hand, forcing her to look away from him, feeling a thrill of terrified pleasure from her as he did so.

“If you promise not to look, I can give you what you wanted from me earlier,” Gabriel growled against the back of her neck as his other hand fumbled with the fastenings of his trousers, fumbled with the button on the front of his boxers to free his cock.

Nathalie let out a low hiss of breath as he thrust gently against her ass, his cock bare against her and hard as a rock. “I promise,” she said, her voice slightly muffled by his grip on her, her mind thrumming with anticipation.

Gabriel made a contented noise and released her chin, sliding his hand back down her side and taking her thigh in a hard grip, lifting her leg and forcing her to hook it backwards over his thighs, spreading her for him as he repositioned his cock with his other hand. He thrust gently against her cunt for a moment and she whimpered at the sensation, then let out a low gasp as he found the right angle and entered her.

She was still hot and wet, and was so, so tight around him. Gabriel slid the hand he had repositioned himself with underneath her, around her waist, searching out her clitoris, circling and nudging it gently, hoping to bring her to completion before his own climax came. Because it would be quick. He could feel it as he began moving inside her. He would be quick, and not just because it had been a long time since he had had sex, not just because he was still worked up from what he had done earlier that evening to Nathalie, but somehow because it was _her_ in his arms.

Damn it, he had been affected by this. He had started teasing her just because her attraction to Hawk Moth was so unexpected, especially when he had never felt anything of the sort from her when she interacted with him as Gabriel. But now…

Now this was something he could think about later. He slid his free hand up her side, cupping her breast again before feeling her slight dissatisfaction at that move. So he slid that hand up further, further, until it wrapped around her neck from behind, his thumb and pointer finger holding her jaw steady and her face pointed away from him as the rest of his fingers closed on her throat. She let out a low whimper, deep in her throat, vibrating against his fingers, and he wondered at the fact that she seemed to be enjoying this. But she was, her mind a haze of arousal, her cunt hotter and slicker than before, and a few moments later she clenched hard around him, letting out a little scream of contentment as she orgasmed.

Gabriel let the feeling of her orgasm, echoed in his mind with the power of the Butterfly Miraculous, carry him over the edge. He released his grip on Nathalie’s throat and pressed a kiss to her jaw, and then they both lay there, panting, until he began to soften and slip out of her.

“I have to go now.” He didn’t want to go, but as far as he could tell from what little light made its way around the blinds it was still dark outside, and his best chance of slipping away unnoticed would be if he left now.

There was a sigh from Nathalie. “I don’t understand why you’re still here.”

Gabriel laughed, a little painfully. “I don’t either.”

“Are you going to come back?”

Gabriel felt his jaw clench hard for a moment, and forced out an unwilling “No.”

“Then I suppose this is it.”

“That would be best.”

He slid out of the bed—some fortune had found him on the side closest to her bedroom door—and tucked himself back into his clothing, wiping his hands on her sheets when he was done. And then he left, pausing for a moment in the open doorway to look back at her.

She did not turn her head to see him go.

He could feel the thrum of her confusion and distress like a second heartbeat within his chest for the entire walk back to his home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding what I'd written of a second chapter to this before I abandon it. Please pay attention to that Non-Con rating if you do plan to read this! I meant it!

Nathalie’s bedroom smelled like sex.

It was an unusual smell for any room in her apartment to have. Her job as Gabriel Agreste’s executive assistant had her working long hours, and odd ones sometimes, and even now that Adrien was in school and no longer in need of full-time tutoring that fact of her job had not changed. Other tasks had simply filled in the space the tutoring’s absence had left.

The long and short of it was that Nathalie hadn’t gotten laid for... she thought about it.

Months, at least. Surely not so much as a year.

Though perhaps...

She shook her head to clear it. She didn’t know what last night had been, other than something that would never be repeated again.

What the hell had she been thinking?

She had been thinking that Hawk Moth could have so easily hurt her. And then... well, the human mind was a strange place. It had been a relief, to let her fear meld into arousal, because he had found it amusing, because he had found it tempting.

Because she had found him tempting, just a little.

That was one thing to say for the man. He certainly knew how to dress. That purple suit was tailored exquisitely.

She wondered if she could identify him now, if she tried... and immediately snorted, imagining it. “No, officer, I didn’t see his entire face, but I can make a pretty good guess at his inseam and know what his dick felt like inside me,” she tried saying out loud before succumbing to hysterical laughter.

Hysterical laughter that turned into body-wracking sobs in an instant.

Nathalie lay there in bed for a long time, tears streaming down her face as she relived and relieved every pent-up emotion that the night before had required her to suppress.

She wasn’t sure how long it was before she finally pushed herself upright. She was sore in some extremely awkward places.

She was...

Nathalie shook her head to clear it. Better to not think about it again. Get out of bed, change her sheets, consign these sheets to the laundry pile... or perhaps a bonfire.

Her wrist hurt. The skin didn’t look bruised, but it was swollen and sensitive to the touch in places, and, as she had discovered while pushing herself upright, it could not currently hold any significant portion of her weight. A glance down at the rest of her body confirmed fingertip-sized bruises on her hips, where Hawk Moth had held her fast the night before.

A glance across the room at the mirror that sat on her chest of drawers confirmed that her neck had bruises to match, though some might well have been love bites. He had been extremely active with his mouth.

Bruises, at least, she would be able to easily hide. She had never been so grateful that she wore turtlenecks most of the time, despite the fact that her boss considered them a little less than fashionable for someone who worked with a fashion designer.

Her emotional state, on the other hand... she had a good poker face. She knew she did. But it was the usual, day-to-day irritations of working for a particularly cranky and high-strung designer that she was used to pushing aside, not...

No. Shove that away too. Shove that away, and get out of bed, and go take a shower to feel clean again. Ignore the phone in pieces on her living room floor, ignore that twinge, low in her abdomen, her body protesting the way it had been used. Get in the shower and turn the water up as hot as it would go and scour her skin clean of the night before.

She felt better after her shower. More human.

She ignored the fact that she didn’t want to leave her bathroom after she was done, her bathroom with its complete lack of windows, with its sturdy door that locked.

Get dressed, try to eat something despite a stomach that rebelled against the thought of food, and then...

She found a set of chopsticks from a long-ago delivery of Chinese food stuck in the back of her silverware drawer, still in their paper wrapper. She faced down the remains of her cell phone with them, poking and prodding the pieces apart with the chopsticks until she found the (miraculously intact) SIM card.

A little bit of digging through the junk drawer in her kitchen and she unearthed the last phone she’d purchased for herself, before she’d given in and had started using the one Mr. Agreste provided her for work for what little social life she still had. Fortunately, it took the same charging cord and SIM card as the one Hawk Moth had shattered into pieces. She stuck the SIM in and plugged in the phone and could not bring herself to wait long enough for it to charge enough to start up before springing back into action.

If she let herself be still, she would start thinking again.

The sheets stripped hastily off the bed and shoved into a pillowcase and then shoved into the back of her closet because she couldn’t face them right now. Fresh sheets on the bed. Simple tasks, done mindlessly, meant to keep her mind from... from...

The phone started up on its own in the other room, a string of notification pings breaking her out of the blankness that had briefly overtaken her. Back to the phone, download this program, sign into that email address, and she had work to distract her now.

Five emails from suppliers, confirming orders. Another ten or so looking to set up meetings with and appearances for Gabriel Agreste. Countless small messages back and forth from people who worked for the Gabriel brand, some relevant to her, some not.

And one from the man himself, saying he had finished his buying trip a day early and had returned home.

Nowhere in the email did it even so much as imply that she needed to come in to work on a Sunday, but that wasn’t going to stop her. She could answer the emails that needed answering from her desk in the Agreste mansion instead of here, in her apartment, where...

She shoved that thought down and shoved her feet into flats and was out the door.

It was still early, the sun still low in the sky, the dew just evaporating. She checked the time on her phone and frowned. Barely past 7:30. Not too early to go to work, but early enough that Mr. Agreste might question her.

But the thought of being alone with her thoughts, the thought of waiting until later in the day when there might—would, given the mild weather—be crowds of people out and about... Nathalie shuddered. No. She would go in to work and simply deal with whatever questions Mr. Agreste might have for her.

There was an early bus. Better than a taxi—more space, and she wasn’t alone with only one other person—but still, her nerves jangled, keeping her alert.

Hawk Moth could still get to her even here.

Not that he wanted to. He had said he wasn’t coming back for her.

She didn’t trust that. She had no reason to.

Nathalie felt safer once she was beyond the gate and doors of Agreste mansion. Not much safer, of course; every entrant to the place was currently being challenged by one young superhero or another, on alert because, for some reason, Hawk Moth had tried to break in to the place the night before, and if he had tried it last night he might try again today.

But safe enough for now. After all, Hawk Moth hadn’t achieved his goal, whatever it had been.

Instead he had come to Nathalie for some reason... which indicated some further plot involving the Agreste family, she was sure of it. What, though? And why?

Questions she couldn’t answer. So instead, she settled herself safely behind her desk, opened her email, and got to work.

And for now, it kept her calm.

Gabriel had showered and gone straight to bed when he returned home, exhausted.

He woke starving. So hungry that he did not bother with more than a robe before leaving his bedroom, making his way down the main staircase, intend on raiding the kitchen.

He did not expect to encounter Nathalie on the way. Would not have even noticed her, had she not stood from her desk and said a quiet “Sir,” as he passed her by, his mind so used to her in the background of his life that he ignored her presence in it most days.

He spared the time to send half a nod in her direction and fled back up the stairs. He would call down to the kitchen with the intercom and get them to send him something instead.

He needed to get dressed.

Oh, not that Nathalie had never seen him like this. She had worked for him for long enough, had spent enough time in the mansion that seeing him in a state of partial undress would not be startling to her.

The erection that had sprung to life the instant he’d become aware of her presence, on the other hand...

He opened the jewelry box on his bedside table first, let his fingers brush across the surface of his Miraculous. Easier to distract his body from its own reactions when he could feel those of others. Nothing at all to do with wanting to know Nathalie’s reaction to him.

He found himself physically reeling backwards when he reached for her. His only glimpse of her this morning had been a brief impression of her face, a calm, pale oval, her eyes hidden behind glasses. Her emotional state, on the other hand... well, that was anything but calm.

Fear, confusion, sadness... and a certain careful blankness underlaying it all, as if there were stronger emotions still being repressed. Gabriel forgot his hunger, forgot everything but the need to finish getting dressed, to go see if he could tease aside that blankness and find what was beneath.

He kept his fingers on the Miraculous as much as he could as he dressed, kept reaching for Nathalie, kept jerking back from the sharp fear—no, from the terror she was feeling.

Terror he had caused.

He did not mind that all of Paris was afraid of him. Some days, he even liked it.

He had never wanted to feel that terror from Nathalie.

There. Everything secure and buttoned up, his necktie in place, the Butterfly Miraculous pinned to his shirt beneath. He could face Nathalie now.

He could not bring himself to. He paused on the second floor landing, a vantage point that offered him an unrestricted view of her desk, and stared down at her cold, pale profile. She was so intent on the computer screen in front of her that she did not see him, and the thought of disturbing her... how could he look her in the face, after what he had done to her the night before?

He retreated to his bedroom and rang down to the kitchen for a meal.

Nathalie worked. She kept working, because there was always more to do, because if she stopped working…

Someone from the kitchen must have been informed of her presence. Someone brought her lunch, and then dinner. She didn’t remember after the dishes were taken away how much she had managed to eat.

She had seen Adrien a time or two, had exchanged a few words with him, though what those words were she didn’t remember. Of her boss, there was no sign, though there rarely was unless she had a reason to seek him out.

And she worked.

Gabriel emerged from his office and frowned. Nathalie was still stationed at her desk, still working.

“Nathalie?”

She blinked slowly, as if coming out of a trance, and shiver ran through her.

“Nathalie, it’s late. You should go home.”

Nathalie looked up, her eyes wide and wild. “Of course. Of course. I should...” she picked up her phone and shoved herself to her feet... and immediately swayed in an alarming fashion, as if she were about to faint. Gabriel dashed to her side and caught her, holding her carefully upright, hiding his alarm as well as possible.

“Nathalie? What’s wrong?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

And then, she burst into tears and flung herself at Gabriel’s chest, and all he could do was catch her and hold her close.

**Author's Note:**

> [I drew this](https://madstuart.tumblr.com/post/189070181323/honestly-her-brain-might-not-ever-start-working) and accidentally story-prompted myself.


End file.
